


Andante, Andante

by fanetjuh



Series: Jonsa Week [38]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, F/M, Mentions of Rape, PTSD, not sure which one it's gonna be :P
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-18 17:45:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16521731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanetjuh/pseuds/fanetjuh
Summary: It's Jon and Sansa's wedding night and fierce and strong Sansa turns into a scared little girl, afraid of what's to come. But Jon is determined to show that he's not like the men who scarred and hurt her at all.





	Andante, Andante

It was a strange sight. It was a sight more painful than anything Jon had ever seen. It was a sight that didn’t fit, didn’t feel right, didn’t seem right.

The beautiful young queen he had married sat on the edge of her bed with her dress still on and her arms nervously wrapped around her. She didn’t look like a queen anymore. She didn’t look like the fierce and proud woman she had become anymore. She looked like a young girl, afraid and terrified of what was to come. 

“Sansa?” He kneeled down in front of her. He was barely wearing anything anymore and he had untied his dark black curls. “Are you okay?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to ask her anyway. He didn’t want her to think that she looked broken and damaged, that she looked like a scarred girl, wounded in places no one got to see.

She tried to lift her chin and straighten her back, but she was trembling and shaking, her hands holding onto the white sheets covering the bed. “I'm fine.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “There’s no need to lie to me, Sansa.” He shook his head and reached for her hands. Her fingers were ice and ice cold and he tried to warm them between his palms. “I hope you know that I always wanna hear the truth from you.”

Sansa took a deep breath. The smile that had brightened her face all day faltered and disappeared. Her eyes stared at him, wide open and almost child like. It was easy to forget that she was still just a young girl, forced to live in a world that was harsh and didn’t care about innocence and purity.

“Talk to me.” Jon whispered and he let one of his hands touch her face. The tips of his fingers caressed her cheek, slowly moving down until he let his palm rest in her neck. “Talk to me, please.”

She pulled her hands back and turned her face away from him. Her glance moved to the window and the dark night surrounding the castle of Winterfell. “I don’t know how.” She bent her head. She looked lost, lost in the memories that haunted her and scared her. “I don’t want to disappoint you.” She bit her lip and Jon fought the urge to wrap his arms around her, to press her to his chest, to tell her stories about brave knights fighting fierce dragons, like Robb used to do when Sansa had been little and afraid of the dark. But stories wouldn’t help her right now. Reality had caught up with the fairytales she had believed and reality had left scars on her heart and soul.

“Sansa…” Jon swallowed. If her demons had been humans he could kill with his swords, he would have fought for her. If her nightmares could be beaten in a hand to hand combat, he would have hit the beasts until his knuckles would bleed. But there were fights he couldn’t fight for her, no matter how desperately he wanted to. “You'll never disappoint me. Just talk to me.” He carefully reached for her chin and moved her face so their eyes could meet. “We can talk all night.”

Sansa’s entire body tensed and a salted tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m so sorry…” She could barely whisper, but Jon heard each and every word loud and clear anyway. “I’m so sorry he took what was yours and…”

Jon shook his head and his lips kissed the single tear away. “Don’t be sorry for me.” He kissed her other cheek, the tip of her nose. “Talk to me about you.” 

“I can’t.” Sansa turned her glance away from him again. “The right words don’t exist.” She took a deep breath. “I want you to know that…” She looked back at him and some of her fierceness returned to her glance. “It’s okay to just do it.” 

Jon furrowed his eyebrows and then he curled his arms around her head and pressed her to his chest. “It's not okay to just do it, Sansa.” 

“This marriage will be worthless if you don’t. You need to do it.” She moved her head up so her lips touched his neck. “The people need to know you’re a true Stark now.”

Jon’s hands went through her hair and he kept silent for a long moment. “No…” He wanted to speak firmly, but the word was stuck in his throat and came out less strong than he had intended. “Nothing is more important to me than you. If you’re not ready for it, I’ll wait. However long I have to. We can tell everyone it happened. But I won’t just do it. Not when you’re like this.”

Sansa buried her face in his neck and after a while she relaxed a little in his arms. The tension in her shoulders eased. Her breathing steadied and she wrapped her arms around him like she had done so many times before. “I'll never be ready for it.” She pulled back and closed her eyes. “And Winterfell does need an heir eventually.” She sighed. “So I want you to just do it.”

“No.” This time Jon’s voice was firm and certain. “I won’t just do it.” He cupped her face between his strong hands and stared at her.

Despite the scars on her soul, despite her pride being gone, despite the pain and fear in her eyes, she was still beautiful. Even broken and hurt she was still beautiful. She would always be beautiful.

“I will show you how it can be. Pleasant and nice, a whispered secret between two lovers.” He moved closer towards her and his lips brushed hers. “We’ll take it slowly. Step by step.”

Sansa smiled a weak smile at him and she took a deep breath before she pulled her nightgown over her head. “I trust you, Jon Snow.” She shove backwards until she could lay her head down on her soft feathered pillow. “I love you, Jon Snow.”

He smiled back at her and crawled on the bed too. His lips searched for her neck. “I love you more, Sansa Stark.” He left a trace of soft kisses down her collarbone, her breast and her belly. 

Sansa buried her hand in his hair. “I love you most, Jon Snow.” She spread her legs a little, but Jon was determined to stay true to his promise. 

He wouldn’t just do it. He would take his time, until even her scarred heart would dare to believe he would never ever hurt her. Until even her broken and damaged soul would dare to believe he loved her more than most.


End file.
